And shook the wave as the wind did sigh;

Above in the wind was the swallow,

Chasing itself at its own wild will,

And far thro' the marish green and still

The tangled water-courses slept,

Shot over with purple, and green, and yellow.

Hearke canst thou heare me? I will play the Swan,

And dye in Musicke: Willough, Willough, Willough....

Othello

[393]. "Columbus's doom-burdened caravels." (line 13)